


Stay a Little Longer

by destihell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, cas loves his plants and books, i literally needed to cheer myself up bc finale is still hitting hard, i wrote this when i was literally exhausted please don't hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destihell/pseuds/destihell
Summary: A short little fluff piece about a day in the life of Dean Winchester and Castiel, if they got to live a happy, human life together after the finale.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Stay a Little Longer

When Dean woke up and stretched his arm across the sheets, the first thing he felt was cold. He grabbed the sheets gently, peeking an eye open, to see an empty spot next to him. Pale, gray sunlight, flickered through the curtains, shining into his eyes. He groaned, turning over, trying to enjoy the peace of morning.

Based on the cold space next to him, Cas had probably been up a couple hours. Nothing new. Dean always seemed to wake up in the mornings alone, Castiel too restless to sleep any longer than he had to. It took time for Cas to even adjust to the idea of a sleep schedule, seeing as he only needed four or five hours of sleep before he was completely rested. It was frustrating at first, constantly being woken up at five in the morning, but Cas eventually learned how to sneak out of bed quietly, as to not wake his boyfriend.

The sound of rain beat on the roof overhead, and Dean was tempted to go back to sleep. Heaviness tugged at his eyelids, the warmth of sleep so close, but Dean sighed, and opened his eyes. He couldn’t sleep all day, as tempting as it was.

He tossed the blankets off of him, swinging his legs over the side, and his skin broke into goosebumps as the cold, late-fall air hit him. The house smelt like rain, and Dean figures that Cas left the door open, like he always does. Dean shook his head. It’s a rainy day. Of course he left the door open.

Cas was peculiar in a lot of ways, but Dean found his obsession with the rain the most odd. No matter how cold or hot, or how late or early it was, if it was raining, Cas would grab a book off the shelf, and head outside to read. And every single time, he’d crack the door open, letting the smell of rain flood the house. He had read almost every book in the house twice, the majority of them some ancient, foreign language, but he still went out to read, every single damn time. Dean almost regretted moving to Washington just because of it. Almost.

It had to be forty degrees out, at best, and Dean shivered as he walked over to the dresser to grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The jeans were faded and dirty, the shirt old and wrinkled, but Dean threw them on without much attention. After he slipped on a warm, cozy pair of socks, he meandered out to the kitchen.

Dean yawned, and walked across the room silently to the coffee pot. On instinct, he reached up to the cabinet to grab a bag of coffee grounds, before he noticed a post-it note on the machine.

Figured you’d be tired :)

Dean tilted his head in confusion, before peeling off the note to see a full pot of coffee. Dean smiled softly, his chest tight in a happy way. Cas didn’t drink coffee, and he knew how much he struggled with cooking of any form. Making coffee took five minutes of effort from Dean, but it took easily fifteen for Cas. He even bothered to set a mug out next to the pot, and Dean sighed.

Cas seemed to enjoy doing small things for Dean. Whether it was grabbing an extra blanket to put on Dean’s side in the middle of the night because it was cold, or leaving little notes around the house, or doing mundane little tasks to save Dean time. Cas was a romantic, and it showed.

Pouring himself a cup, Dean looked out the window to see Castiel sitting in his favorite chair, his legs curled up onto it, his book splayed out across his knees. Whatever he read, he always seemed to invest himself in. No matter how many times he’d read it, he’d cling to every word on the ivory pages.

Dean set the pot back where it belonged, before quietly making his way over to the front door. He took a deep breath of fresh air, the rain and coffee making for a peaceful smell. He leaned a shoulder against the door frame, staring at his boyfriend.

If Cas knew he was right there, he didn’t show it. His eyes were still glued to the pages, his brow furrowed like a million gears were turning in his head. Dean stared at the lines on his faces, the wonderment in his midnight-blue eyes, the almost invisible scars on his fingers from countless paper-cuts.

Dean took a sip of his coffee, walking over to stand above Cas and see what he was reading. He looked down, trying to make something out of the words, but nothing came to him. Whatever Cas was reading was at minimum a thousand years old.

Leaning down, Dean pressed his lips against Castiel’s forehead, running his hand through his hair, which had grown long enough for it to be unkempt most of the time. Whenever he would get out of the shower, he’d take the time to do something with it, but it only took a few hours for it to become unruly. Dean didn’t mind it much. Some nights, when he couldn’t sleep, or would wake up to nightmares, he’d lay on his side and play with it while Cas slept.

“Good morning,” Cas mumbled under his breath, a smile forming across his face, while he continued to read.

“Morning,” Dean said, his voice rough and tired. “Whatcha reading?”

“The Odyssey,” Castiel said with a smugness to his voice, like he was some professor or literature buff. “One of the first copies, in its original language. Rowena brought it for me the last time she visited.”

Dean hummed in agreement as he took another sip of his coffee, which seemed to finally catch his boyfriend’s attention. He looked up at him, with a soft, gentle look, and moved to the right, to make room for Dean. The chair was just big enough for two people if they squeezed together.

Dean sat down next to him, staring out in the trees at the rain. The cold bit at his face, but Cas read on, unaffected. The jacket draped around his shoulders was Dean’s, and it didn’t fit. Castiel’s shoulders were too small to fill it, and he was skinnier than Dean, so it was a loose fit.

Dean lifted it up, partially, so he could get in under it. Tiredly, Dean set his head down on his boyfriend’s shoulder, the coffee not having kicked in yet. Cas leaned his head in, leaving his cheek to rest on Dean’s hair, and Dean closed his eyes in contentment, as the rain continued to beat against their home.

**════════════════**

By the time the rain had finally stopped, and given way to a brief period of sunlight, it was mid-afternoon. Dean had gone fishing, leaving Cas alone to tend to his garden.

Rowena had accidentally given Cas a book about herbs required for magic, and he had memorized the entire book, enough to go out and buy some plants of his own. He had taken up herbal witchcraft out of boredom, littering rooms of the house and the porch with plants and herbs, much to Dean’s shock. And out of pure decoration, (and so Cas could give flowers to Dean) Cas had made himself a flower garden, filled with as many flowers Cas could find.

The rain had already watered them for the day, and based on the thunder in the distance, it would continue to water them more in a few hours. Castiel crouched down, looking at his flowers. He had planted them almost a month and a half ago, and most of them hadn’t fully bloomed yet.

Towards the front, though, a rose seemed to have finished blooming. It’s petals were a crimson red, raindrops running down the sides. Castiel smiled, running the back of his finger across the petals. Roses seemed to be Dean’s favorite of Castiel’s plants, and Castiel grabbed its stem, hoping to make a nice gift for his boyfriend.

Castiel let out a slight gasp as the thorn between his fingers pricked him, and he dropped it from shock. A thin line of blood trickled down his finger and his palm, and he winced from the pain.

“Hey, what happened?”

Cas looked up to see Dean walking over, coming on his way back from fishing, lines of worry etched across his face. Cas stood up from his crouching position, holding out his finger from where the thorn pierced his skin. Dean took Castiel’s finger into his hands, the rough, scarred skin a contrast to Castiel’s smooth hands. Years of fighting and injuries and dealing with weaponry had forged Dean’s hands, while years of angel healing had made Castiel’s seem untouched. The past couple of months had made their mark on him, with little scars and scratches starting to appear on him, but they paled in comparison.

“It’s nothing,” Castiel brushed it off. “I just got poked by a rose. That’s all.”

Dean didn’t seem to pay attention to his words, looking more focused on the cut.

“Why don’t you go inside, clean it off?” Dean said. “You don’t want it to get infected or something.”

Cas bit his tongue and nodded. “Yeah.”  
Dean seemed to lose too much sleep over Castiel’s well-being. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, but sometimes, it was just a bit much. Any bump, bruise, or scratch seemed to send Dean into a panic, like Cas would collapse at any moment. Cas had learned enough about how to clean wounds that he didn’t bother saying anything when he hurt himself in small ways, but if Dean was nearby, and he made even the tiniest sound of pain, he came running.

Cas remembered vividly the time when he was cutting vegetables for dinner that he accidentally sliced his palm open with a knife. Dean had been in the shower, and Cas had been quiet enough that he didn’t alert Dean. By the time Dean had gotten out of the shower, Cas was midway through pouring alcohol on it and nearly made it worse when he heard Dean’s shout of surprise by dropping the alcohol bottle on his cut. The entire bottle had spilled out onto the cut and hurt worse than the knife. Cas nearly collapsed from the pain, and he learned to shut up and let Dean help him when the injury was big.

Cas sighed as he ran cold water over his finger, a light sting biting at his finger. He turned the water off to rummage through the drawers for band-aids, when Dean walked in and swatted his hand out of the way. Cas let out a slight, “ow”, from the smack, before Dean grabbed his hand to put the band-aid on it.

“Hey,” Cas said, grabbing Dean’s hand.

Dean looked up at Cas, confused. Cas gave him a warm look, and caressed Dean’s hand with his thumb. Dean seemed to relax a little bit at this, and let Castiel’s hand go. He handed him the band-aid, and stuffed his hands in his pockets while Cas wrapped it around his finger.

“Sorry,” he said.

Cas smiled, reaching to take Dean’s hand back, holding it in between them. Based on his empty hands, Cas assumed Dean hadn’t had much luck fishing, and his face brightened as he remembered the flower. He dropped Dean’s hand and ran outside quickly for a moment, leaving Dean confused and alone in the kitchen. He reached down, avoiding the thorns this time, picking up his rose.

In an instant, Cas was back in the kitchen, accidentally slamming the screen-door shut behind him. He held out the rose, childishly, with a grin on his face. Dean looked down at it for a moment, a small smile playing at his lips, before he picked it up. He rotated it in his fingers, before setting it down on the counter and tossing his arms over Castiel’s shoulders, his smile now wide across his face.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning down to plant a kiss on Castiel’s lips. Cas could just barely feel his heels leave the ground as he reached upwards, his hands on Dean’s waist. Dean was just barely tall enough to make Cas have to reach for it whenever Cas kissed him or buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck.

Dean’s lips were warm, soft, and tasted like black coffee, and Castiel smiled against them, as the rain started to pour again outside.

**════════════════**

Cas felt a gentle tug on his shirt as Dean shifted from his spot against his chest, his boyfriend’s hand still holding onto his shirt. The TV hummed next to them, as some shitty old western Dean convinced him to watch, played, and thunder seemed to shake the house every ten minutes.

Cas could feel Dean’s hair barely tickle his neck, and Cas could smell his cologne. It was strong and masculine, the type that made Cas feel like he was in a hunter bar if he closed his eyes, and it was a stark contrast to Dean’s action of being curled up against his five foot eleven boyfriend.

It hadn’t taken Dean long to fall asleep, considering he had made a warm, deep-crusted pizza for dinner, and gorged himself on it. Thirty minutes into the movie he chose, Dean had passed out.

Cas didn’t mind much. He liked the weight of Dean pressed against him. It was heavy, and Dean was relaxed. Cas knew he felt comfortable enough doing it, which had taken time. When they had first started dating, it was difficult for the two of them to get used to doing small, affectionate things. It wasn’t like they hated it, but they spent twelve years never doing it. It was strange being able to do the things Cas had wanted to do for so long, like holding hands, or cuddling up on a couch.

When Dean still lived in the bunker, he used to force Cas to have a movie night every Friday. Since Cas had never seen anything, Dean always picked, and Cas always seemed to be bored. Cas had eventually realized it was because he was far more into movies like the DaVinci Code instead of westerns, but Cas suffered through it every time, without complaint. One night, Dean had been up for at least three days, and passed out, on Cas. His head had landed on Castiel’s shoulders, and Cas didn’t move until morning, before Dean realized what happened.

It was strange to realize how far they’d come.

Cas yawned as the movie continued on, two characters deciding on having a duel. The movie had been playing for an hour and a half now, and Cas couldn’t force himself to pay attention. He had been up a long time, and the dark room, with Dean curled up next to him, seemed to be enough to make him exhausted.

Reaching over to the coffee table, Cas shut the movie off, before setting the remote back down. He looked down at Dean, almost tempted to not move at all and simply pass out here. Feeling a chill run down his spine from the cold, Cas shook his head, and gently nudged Dean.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Dean let out a groan as he seemed to come to, rubbing his eyes and sitting upright. He ran his fingers through his hair, and Cas ached as he sat up too. He would’ve carried Dean, but considering Dean was almost three inches taller and about twenty pounds heavier than him, it wouldn’t end well.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, standing up, and gently tugging Dean up with him. Dean stumbled, and rubbed his hand across his face to try and wake up.

“It’s okay,” Dean mumbled, slurring his words together.

Cas and Dean walked through the dark together, making it to their bedroom as another round of thunder shook the house. Dean was quick at slipping off his clothes, tossing them onto the dresser to be picked up in the morning, while Cas took his time to fold his jeans and shirt neatly, and to put his socks back where they belonged.

Dean had already collapsed into bed, pulling up the blankets to turn over on his side, leaving Cas little room if he wanted to sprawl out. Cas rolled his eyes affectionately, before pulling back the blankets and settling down next to him. Like always, he draped his arm around Dean’s side, curling up into his neck, letting himself get warm. Dean seemed to always angle himself so when Cas wrapped him in his arms, he could feel Castiel’s lips against the side of his neck.

As rain beat down against the cabin, Cas let out sigh, comfortable and content next to Dean. He could easily stay like this forever, melted into Dean’s side, his warm skin pressed against his. His chest ached as he felt nothing for love for the man beside him. He would take what he had though.

As long as he could stay a little longer like this, he was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> this was literally just an idea that popped into my head in the shower, and i thought it was a nice little fluff piece i could share with people. i was rewatching stuff about the finale and it bummed me out, so i had the idea of just writing about dean and cas living the domestic life if they got their happy ending after the finale instead of the ending we got. no, this doesn't take place in heaven before you ask, cas is human and on earth, and dean is still alive. please leave me some kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, i literally survive off of random strangers being nice to me. hope you enjoyed it!!


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